Buried Alive
by SuperBex
Summary: When Warrick goes missing, will Catherine reach him in time? And will she finally admit her feelings for her colleague and friend? [Written for Vikki my CSI Buddy :]
1. Chapter 1

**This is a Cath/Warrick fic written entirely for my friend Vikki. It's her birthday today and I very un-subtly asked her what her dream fic would be. So I tried my best to write something good for her. She's my CSI Buddy (H) so I suppose it's only right this is a CSI fic. **

**This is my first CSI fic and I'm not totally convinced that I got the Cath's character right, so I apologise for any OOC, and feedback would be much appreciated. **

* * *

I glance up at the clock in my office and notice, with relief, that my shift is over in a few minutes. Finally, I can get out of here. It's not like I don't like my job (although, I distinctly dislike the mountain of paperwork I'm currently trying to ignore), but sometimes I just really can't wait to go home. Relax and see my daughter. That is if she'll even speak to me. I'm lucky if she surfaces out of her bedroom for food at the moment. '_Teenagers_', I sigh.

By the time I've cleared my desk a little, it's time for me to leave. I grab my bag from the back of my chair and shrug on my coat as I head to the door. But I find myself walking around the lab, rather than toward the exit. Very strange.

I try to tell myself that I'm just checking on my colleagues, making sure I'm okay to go home, but I know the real reason. I'm looking for Warrick. Just to say goodbye. I haven't seen him since the beginning of shift, and I just want to see him quickly before I leave. I won't let myself think about it any more than that. I don't think I'd particularly like what I'd find. (You know, that I couldn't possibly go a whole day without seeing him.)

I notice that I've looked round the whole of the crime lab and not seen him. Of course, he could always be in the bathroom. Or maybe he ran out to get something to eat. I could just wait a little while. See if he comes back. _My God woman, get a grip!_ I take a deep breath and calm the fight in my head. He's probably just gone home.

I start to walk toward the exit to the crime lab, when I feel someone watching me. I turn round and see Greg looking at me with a strange expression on his face. Probably because he just saw me have an argument with myself. I turn back round quickly and stride out of the lab.

* * *

I rush into work the next day. I'm a little late because I had a row with Lindsay this morning. About her clothes, of all things. I hate arguing with her and it puts me in such a bad mood for work. So, I'm suitably stressed when I finally make it to work.

There's only one thing that could possibly make this day better. I pray Grissom puts me on the same case as Warrick. Working with him makes my day so much easier. Just the thought of it puts a smile on my face as I deposit my bag and the mail I just collected in my office.

My face falls as soon as I make it to the break room. Warrick isn't there. Nick's making some coffee and Greg and Sara are chatting and laughing about something or other. They glance up and wish me "good morning" as they hear me enter. '_Good morning_', I laugh sarcastically in my head.

Suddenly the door opens and my head flicks round to look, a little too quickly. It's Grissom. I sigh and drop myself down into a chair on the other side of Greg, and mentally prepare myself for a miserable day.

"Morning everyone. I got an email from Warrick this morning- "My head shoots up and Grissom gives me a strange look. "- he's ill so he won't be in today." At my concerned face, Grissom adds, "Nothing serious. Just a cold."

I don't feel comforted. I know Warrick. He'd never admit to being ill. He could be having a heart attack and he'd assure me he was fine. I feel my eyebrow rise with scepticism. Grissom continues.

"Greg, Sara, you're with me on a 419 on the strip. Catherine and Nick, you've got a decomp in the desert." Grissom handed the case files to Greg and Nick.

My day just got better. Decomp. In the desert. Great. Just what I needed today. I think Nick senses my distress and flashes me a small smile. I force one back and mumble something about getting my kit.

I heave a deep sigh once I'm back in my office. I shove the mail in my desk drawer and grab my case from the cupboard. I try to remind myself why I'm here. I have a job to do. This decomp is, or rather was, a person, with family. Family who need answers. With those thought circulating my mind, and my worries about Lindsay and Warrick forced aside, I head out to meet Nick, shutting my office door behind me.

* * *

By the time I return to the office, at the end of shift, I feel about a hundred times worse than I did that morning. The case, and the body, was horrific. CODIS allowed a fairly quick identification and Nick and I solved the case. Though, not before we had dealt with the body, some very hysterical relatives and difficult suspects.

I sit down at my desk once again, and turn my nose up at the smell. I smell of putrefied human flesh. Nice. For the second day running, I just really want to go home. I rub my tired eyes and concentrate on tying up a few loose ends before I leave.

After I've jotted down some notes on the case file, I add that to the ever-growing pile, and reach into my drawer for my mail. I absentmindedly flick through some bills, junk mail and back statements until my eyes catch an envelope with "C. Willows, Las Vegas Crime Lab" scrawled on the front in untidy hand writing.

I turn it over and run my thumb under the flap, before pulling out a piece of white paper from inside. I unfold the paper and my forehead creases in confusion. Written on the page is "22-14-5-5-18-7".

"What the…?" I say aloud. I look back into envelope and see something small inside. I close my fingers around it and realise that it is a photo. No bigger than the ones you get from photo booths.

I pull it out and I feel my head go faint and suddenly I can't breathe. The picture is dark and small but there is no mistaking the face in the photo. His eyes are wide and there is gag across his mouth. Warrick.

* * *

**A/N: This is basically based on Grave Danger, but as I haven't seen those eps, any specific similarities are pretty much coincidental. Please review! X **


	2. This Is Not Happening

**Thanks for the kind reviews for the last chapter. I was really nervous about that and I really appreciated your comments! **

**I'm updating pretty quickly (a lot quicker than I usually do!) because this is for Vikki, after all, and she keeps hinting at me to update! **

* * *

Oh God. This is not happening. I stare at the photo in my trembling hands; as if looking at it will make Warrick appear in front of me. I am drawn to his eyes. I remember a conversation we had about his eyes. He told me the girls at school teased him about them; I said they were his best feature. I meant it. God, those eyes were heaven. I could always tell what he was feeling from looking in his eyes. They changed colour with his emotions. Darker when he was angry and sparkling when he was happy. A soft smile comes to my face when I think of all the times he's looked at me with those eyes, teased me with them, flirted with them. The thought of never having that again brings me back to the present.

I take a deep breath and realise that I can't summon the effort to move. As the gravity of the situation hits me, I slump back in my chair, and the picture falls from my hands, floating to the desk. I put my head in my hands and let the tears fall. Catherine Willows doesn't cry. I could count the times I had in the past ten years on one hand.

Like when Lindsay was taken. Oh God. The memories come flooding back. How useless I had felt, how guilty I was that I hadn't kept her safe, how much I needed to have her back in my arms. It's like it's happening all over again.

As sudden as a car crash, the anger floods through me. For the first time, I think about the people who have him and what he would be going through. Had they hurt him already? The thought of that makes me sick. I won't even let myself consider the worst possible scenario.

Abruptly, I spring into action, snatching the photo, the paper and the envelope from my desk and running to Grissom's office. I get a few strange looks from the lab techs I rush past, but I really couldn't care less. Once I reach Grissom's office I go straight in. It doesn't even occur to me to knock first.

Grissom's head snaps up at me and there is a confused, surprised look on my face.

"I thought you'd gone home" he says. Then he notices my heavy breathing and the panic look on my face. "Cath, are you alright?" He stands now, coming towards me.

I try to speak but the words don't come out and I doubt that I would make any sense anyway. All coherent thoughts have vanished, replaced by an urgent need to do something to find Warrick.

I hand him the items in my hand and he takes them, his face looking more befuddled by the second. He looks at the envelope first and raises his eyebrow, looking at me. I just nod slightly. Then he turns over the paper and sees the numbers written on the page. Wow, he looks _really_ confused now. I can't even begin to think what that code could mean. Finally, he notices the small picture. He brings it closer to his face and his eyes widen in shock.

"Catherine…" he begins, but his voice trails off as he thinks about the implications of what he's seen. He takes a while to collect his thoughts, and then looks back at me.

"When did you get this?" he asks.

"Sometime today, I only just noticed it, but it definitely wasn't there yesterday" I reply.

"There's no address or post mark so it must have been given straight into the Crime Lab. That's good."

"Yeah, I suppose." I say quietly.

"I'm sorry Catherine; I know this must be hard for you. I know you and Warrick are close friends. We will find him, okay?" He says gently.

I manage a weak smile and nod.

"I'm going to call in the rest of the team and we'll get to work straight away." He leaves the office, shooting me a reassuring look over his shoulder. I'm left standing on my own in the middle of his office, and I feel so numb. I can't hear the sounds of the lab techs or their technology. The talk of passing cops and CSIs passes over my head. I know that the breeze coming through the open window is making me cold, but I can't really feel it.

* * *

I am woken from my reverie by the sound of someone calling my name. I sense they've been calling me for a while. It's Greg.

"Hey, Cath, Grissom's wants us all in the break room, kay?" I can see Greg's trying his best to be nice to me and I smile softly at his efforts, before following him blindly to the break room.

Everyone turns to look at me when I enter the room and I settle down into a chair a little away from them. I look at the empty seat next to me, where Warrick would surely sit if he were here and I feel the tears coming again. I force them back and focus my attention on Grissom, avoiding eye contact with the others.

"Right, now you've all seen the note and the photo by now, and I'm sure you understand the seriousness of the situation. I know this will be hard, Warrick's our friend of course, but we need to remain objective. The only way to help him now is to do our jobs." Grissom looks pointedly at me then, and I see Sara, Nick and Greg nod out of the corner of my eye.

Grissom continues. "As the note must have been personally delivered to the Crime Lab, I've had the CCTV footage sent to Archie already. Nick, I want you to give him a hand, we don't have much time." Nick nods, rises out of his seat and leaves the break room. I watch him go before I turn back to Grissom.

"Greg, you need to take these-"he holds up the envelope, paper and picture "- and check for trace or fingerprints. It's unlikely but it needs to be done. Then get the photo sent to Archie." Greg takes the pages from Grissom and heads to the lab. I glance and Sara and she smiles softly at me. I force a weak one back.

Grissom starts speaking again. "Sara, you, me and Brass are going to head to Warrick's house. See if there's any evidence of what happened there, while Brass questions the neighbours. Grab your kit and meet me back here, okay?" Sara nods and leaves Grissom and I alone. I dread what he's going to say to me. I'm sure he's going to tell me I can't work the case. That I'm too personally involved. I start formulating my argument.

"Cath, as soon as Greg's done with the note, I want you to work on that code. It could lead us to Warrick or his captors." I'm surprised and I know he can see it. I'm not really conscious of it, but I can feel my body moving toward the lab where I'll find Greg.

He looks up when I enter the room, obviously surprised to see me. 

"I, uh, need the note when you're done." I say.

"Oh, sure, no problem. I'm nearly done." He smiles at me again. I just nod. I hope he understands.

"Look Cath, I know you are Warrick are, like, best mates. If you need someone to talk to or anything, y'know, just ask, yeah?" He seems nervous.

"Thanks Greg. Really. I appreciate it." I smile genuinely at him, and he smiles back. I really do appreciate his concern. I wait around for a few minutes, just content to watch him work; it stops me thinking about Warrick, which I'm finding too painful right now. Finally, he hands me the note, in a sealed, clear evidence bag. I thank him and head for my office.

* * *

I take a seat behind my desk, switch the desk light on and place the note in front of me. I'm determined to figure this out. For Warrick.

22-14-5-5-18-7

I stare at the numbers on the page intently. My mind is working overtime, suggesting all the things it could be. My first thought is map references. But that doesn't seem right. The numbers are set out wrong. And there are too many digits. No, that can't be it. Think.

A phone number? No. Wrong amount of digits. Wrong layout.

A lock combination? Possible. I jot that one down on a piece of paper. But that just doesn't feel right. I can't logically explain why, but it just doesn't.

I knead my temples with my finger tips, willing the answer to come to me. I'm so desperate. I need to figure this out.

Think, what is it? A series of numbers. A code. A code that tells me something to do with Warrick. A location, a means of finding him, a name, a motive. A word. The gears turn quickly and an idea comes to me. Frantically I grab the piece of paper next to me and write out the alphabet. Beneath each letter I assign a number, starting with A equalling 1. I check back to the code of the note and find the letter for each of the numbers.

Damn. The page in front of me now has "VNEEREG" scrawled across it. I really thought I had it. That seemed so logical. A code to find a word. It explained why the numbers were set out in that way, each number separated by a dash. Damn. I cradle my head in my hands and I feel so frustrated.

After a few minutes, I raise my head and stare at my writing through teary eyes. I keep staring at it, wishing the letters would turn into something that makes sense. Then it hits me. 'Of course!' my brain exclaims. I grab my pen again and start to write beneath my previous attempt; rearranging the letters.

"Yes!" I shout, jumping to my feet. Written in large, messy handwriting at the bottom of my page is the answer to the code:

'REVENGE'

**Please review! Xx **


	3. Chapter 3

**I know I haven't updated in ages, and i'm really sorry! I'm completely useless at updating quickly and finsing the time, but I try my best! Lol. **

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last two chapters; reviews are very much apreciated, especially as I'm still not sure about the characters in this. **

**Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

My mind is spiralling with all the possible things that this could mean. 

'REVENGE'

My first thought is, instinctively, of a criminal that Warrick had put away. Perhaps someone who was recently released and decided to pledge vengeance against the man who sent them to prison. I decide that my next move will be to draw up a list of all the cases in which Warrick has helped to ensure a conviction.

I sigh, realising what a long, hard task that will be. But I know that it has to be done, to save Warrick. I switch on my computer and wait for it to load up.

Then I remember the rest of the team, and grab my phone. I hit speed dial 3: Grissom. My heart lurches when I think of Warrick as speed dial 1.

After a few rings, I hear Grissom's familiar voice; "Grissom".

"It's Catherine. I got it. The numbers were a code to find a word, nothing else worked, not the right numbers for a phone number or map reference, could've been a lock combination, but that didn't feel right, you know? Anyway, I realised it must be a word and I put a number to each letter, like A equals 1, B equals 2, etcetera, then I found the letters for each number, but it didn't work, then-"

"Catherine!" Grissom's loud voice interrupts me and I realise I've been rambling wildly without pausing for breath.

"Sorry" I said quietly, "The code meant 'revenge.'" I hear Grissom sigh on the other end of the line.

"Okay Catherine, Sara, Brass and I are almost done here. I want you to check on Greg, and Nick and Archie. See if they got anything. Then, get everyone in the Break Room with their findings and we'll all meet up and discuss, okay?"

"Yeah, sure." I say more slowly now.

"And Catherine?"

"Yeah?"

"Stay calm, keep a clear head."

"I will. Bye."

I hang up and rest my head on my palms. My eyes shut tightly and I breathe heavily and slowly through my pursed lips. I know I needed to stay composed for Warrick's safe. I'd be useless to him if I lost it all now, when he needs me most. I wait a while till I feel almost human again.

Then, I stand up with a forced sense of purpose and composure and walk briskly to Greg's lab. He looks up and smiles softly at me when I enter the room.

"How you getting on Greggo?" I say, trying to show him that I'm coping okay, when really my head's a mess. He looks pleasantly surprised.

"Well, surprise, surprise, no fingerprints, but I did get some trace." The hope burns bright inside me. "Nothing on the photo or the note, but I did get something off the envelope. Clinohedrite."

"Excuse me?" I say, confused. I usually know my stuff when it comes to chemicals, but I'm sure I've never heard of clinohedrite. Greg chuckles lightly.

"Greg, Catherine?" Greg and I turn our heads at the voice in the doorway. Sara is standing there, looking rushed. "We're supposed to me meeting in the Break Room." She says.

"Yeah, sorry, you guys got back quicker than I thought." Sara nods, smiles brightly at Greg, and turns away, mumbling something about getting Nick. Greg gathers a few papers from the worktop and follows me out of the lab.

* * *

Finally, Nick and Sara take their seat at the round table in the Break Room and Grissom starts to speak. 

"Right, let's see what everyone's got from their respective investigations and then work out where we go next. Greg, please."

"Right, sure," Greg begins, "As I was just saying to Catherine, no fingerprints at all, and no trace on the note or photo, but I did get something quite interesting off the envelope. It was stuck on the adhesive on the flap." Greg holds the envelope up in a sealed evidence bag, "Clinohedrite." Greg finishes looking proud of himself.

Nick and Sara's faces resemble mine a few moments ago and Grissom's expression is unreadable. Greg sighs and proceeds to explain.

"Franklin, New Jersey?" He says, clearly exasperated. No one speaks.

"Fluorescent Mineral Capital of the World?" Now I think he's enjoying knowing something the rest of us don't.

"Greg!" I exclaim.

"Okay! Clinohedrite is a fluorescent mineral compound found only in the Franklin and Sterling Hill mines in New Jersey. Extremely rare. Fluoresces orange under UV light." He explains.

No one speaks for a moment, digesting this information. Then,

"Any chance it could have got there by accident, passed person to person?" Sara asks Greg.

"Not likely," He says shaking his head, "Our guy probably works at the mine in Franklin."

Nick speaks now, "What's a guy working in New Jersey doing sending letters, _in person_, in Nevada? New Jersey's the other side of the country!" Greg shrugs.

"If he or she works in New Jersey, they would've had to get a flight here, that'll give us something to go on, and they probably left their work several days ago, maybe without explanation, we can speak to the mine and find out if any staff left recently." Grissom says.

I feel relieved that there are some leads we can investigate, glad that I have some hope at least.

"Nick, you get anything off the photo or CCTV?" Grissom continues.

"Well there's quite a lot of video to go through, Archie's still working on it. We've narrowed it down to a time period yesterday and the cameras covering the entrance to the Crime Lab and reception. Catherine collected her mail from reception that morning," I nod at him as he looks at me, "and as it wasn't sent in the post, it must have been dropped in at reception. I checked with the receptionists working yesterday but neither of them remembers receiving a letter for Catherine. Nothing from the videos as yet, but we did get somewhere with the photo."

My head jerks up quickly, eager for some news, even as my stomach turns at the thought of the picture. Warrick looking so helpless and in danger. I force the mental image from my head and concentrate on Nick.

"The picture was pretty dark but Archie lightened it and you can make out the background; vertically corrugated metal. There's the end of some kind of code, but only 3 digits: 610. It could be anything, it's not a code registered with any government body, probably a code within a specific company. There's no way of knowing which company. The way the light and shadows fall, Archie reckons it's some kind of enclosed space, like a shipping container, which of course would mean a limited oxygen supply."

The thought of Warrick bound and gagged in a shipping container, left to die, makes me feel violently sick. My usual façade of cool composure slips as I let my head fall to the table and I feel the tears blur my sight. There is silence for what seems like a lifetime before Sara starts speaking.

"There was no evidence of a struggle at Warrick's place, and we didn't notice anything missing or out of place. But, we don't know Warrick's house very well, so we thought maybe you could have a look, you know, you're closer to him than the rest of us."

It's only now I realise she's talking to me. I feel my head nod weakly in agreement. I am glad that Sara and Grissom didn't find a large pool of blood at his house. I'm not sure I could cope with that.

"Catherine…" Grissom says softly.

I look at him blankly before I realise that it's my turn to explain my findings.

"Well, I figured out the code on the note. When the numbers each equal a letter, the anagram spells out 'revenge'. I'm thinking that we should look up all of the cases Warrick's been on. We can narrow the criteria by searching for cases where Warrick was the main CSI on the case, or had the most contact with the suspect. Also, as it's just Warrick that's been targeted, there's a chance he was involved in court proceedings, as an expert witness whose testimony swayed judge and jury to a guilty verdict."

Greg, Nick, Sara and Grissom all look fairly impressed with my theory.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do. Nick, I want you to get back to Archie, we need answers from that video. Sara, you work on a list of possible suspects using Warrick's case history and Greg, get a list of customers flying from New Jersey to Nevada in the past week. I'm going to contact the Franklin and Sterling Hill mine. Catherine, you get over to Warrick's place and check if anything's missing. Alright everyone, we need to move quickly."

* * *

I slide my key into the lock on Warrick's front door and take a deep breath before I step inside. I stand in the center of the room and close my eyes. I know it's ridiculous but I can just feel Warrick's presence here. It calms me and I feel so at home. Quickly, I open my eyes; I don't really want to dwell on that feeling right now. I walk from room to room, looking for anything that's missing or in the wrong place. As I finish scouring the bookshelf, I realise that I really do know my way around Warrick's place too well. 

I am about to leave, content that everything is as it should be, when I notice a gap on the middle shelf. I think back, scanning my memory, trying to remember what was there. Then suddenly it comes to me. I remember a night, months ago, when I spent the evening at Warrick's, while Lindsey stayed at a friend's. We had pizza and watched a movie; just hung out together. That's when I noticed the photo. It was of me and Warrick last Christmas. We had had our picture taken at the Crime Lab Christmas party; we were standing together, Warrick had his arm round my waist; he was wearing a tuxedo and I had my best black cocktail dress on. It is a lovely photo, and I have a copy myself.

But the question is, What would Warrick's abductor want with a Christmas picture of us?

* * *

**Thank you for reading and please review! Xx**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, i'm really sorry I haven't updated for so long! I'm totally useless and I feel real bad about it! **

**I haven't had loads of reviews for this story but the ones I have got have been really nice, so please keep them coming, they are very much appreaciated. **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

I run out of Warrick's apartment, fearing for my own safety now as well as his. I jump in my car and speed to my own apartment, probably breaking a few road laws during the trip. I fumble with my key when I try to insert it in the lock of my front door. 

Finally, the door opens and I rush inside, dropping my bag on the table next to the door, and I walk down the hall to my bedroom. Crossing the room quickly, I come to stand at my dressing table. There, in front of the mirror, is the picture. My unsteady hands reach to pick it up.

I hold the picture in my hand, my thumb rolling slowly across the glass surface. I peer intently at the faces in the photo. I appear so carefree and happy, and I am looking straight at the camera; wanting this is to be a picture I can treasure forever.

Warrick, however, isn't looking at the camera; his gaze is focused entirely on me. There is a lazy, content smile on his face as he watches me laugh. Standing in my silent house, I close my eyes, willing myself back to that time. It feels so real. His strong arm around my waist; his hand caressing my hip; the smell of his aftershave; the sound of his breathing so close to me and the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat at my side.

As quick as it came to me, the feeling is gone. I force my eyes open and they return instantly to the picture in my trembling hands. His handsome face is blurred now; a large splash of water distorting his beautiful features. I wipe the tears away, from the picture and my cheeks. Placing the picture back on the dresser carefully, I take a deep breath and leave my apartment to head to the Crime Lab.

* * *

I pray that my legs will be strong enough to carry me through the lab and into Grissom's office as I step out of the car. Not to mention hoping no one notices I've been crying. I don't need people fussing around me now, worrying about me, when they should be helping Warrick. 

Grissom looks up when I enter his office and puts down the papers he was previously looking through.

"Hey" He says.

"Hi, found anything yet? Any leads?" I ask hopefully, wanting to delay telling him about the photo, not wanting to acknowledge the implications.

"Yeah, we're getting somewhere now. Archie got a face from the surveillance tapes." He passes me a printout of the CCTV video. The face is heavily shadowed due to the hood pulled up round the face. It is a man, probably in his thirties. He has a small amount of facial hair on his chin.

Grissom is calling my name.

"Sorry?" I ask.

"I said, do you recognise him?"

"No." I say quietly, wishing I did.

"Ok." He sounds a little suspicious. "Well, I did get something from the mine in Franklin."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, first I asked them if any staff had left recently, either planned or unexplained, and they said no." My face falls visibly. "Then I asked if any staff had been absent for the past few days. That's where we got somewhere. There were a couple of guys not at work for maybe one day, but our guy would've had to have at least 2 days, right? Maybe even 3. If he was going to fly from New Jersey to Nevada, drop the letter off at the Crime Lab, then fly back again. That's 2 days flying at least."

"Right." I agreed, nodding.

"She said there was one guy, booked 3 days leave, starting the day before yesterday and ending today." My eyes grow wide; this is the guy. "Andy Harrow."

I breath I didn't realise I had been holding is released. I don't recognise the name. If anything, I feel more helpless than before. If only I recognised him; I could lead the team straight to him and save Warrick before… before he…

I feel the tears threatening again, and blink my eyes quickly, willing them away. I'm stronger than this.

Suddenly, there is a cough at the door. I look round to see Greg and Sara standing together, just outside the office, looking awkward. Grissom speaks and I am grateful; I'm not sure I even could.

"Have you got anything?"

"Sort of." Greg says. He looks sheepishly at me, smiling a little, and I realise he must be wondering how to act around me. I hate that. I don't want to be treated like a fragile little girl. I can deal with this. I can do my job.

"What did you get Greg?" I ask him, my voice sounding much stronger and more confident than I really feel.

"Well, I go a few names from Warrick's case history. I did what you said and checked the cases where Warrick had been expert witness. That was pretty easy. But then I started checking cases where Warrick had had the most contact with the suspect. That was much harder. I had to check through all the case files to see if Warrick had conducted interviews or made initial arrests. Again, I got some names. Then I checked all of the names against those who were now released, most recent first. Last guy was released over a year ago. Here." He passes me the papers now.

"I was checking the flight manifests for flights from New Jersey to Nevada." Sara says now. "I cross referenced the manifest names with any suspect or witness in any of Warrick's cases." This must be it. "Nothing." She finishes.

"What?!" I exclaim. Sara looks taken aback by my outburst.

"Nothing? Not even one name? Not a single person on any flight from New Jersey to Nevada in the past week has ever been involved in one of Warrick's cases?"

My voice is incredulous and almost sarcastic but I don't care. Sara shakes her head sadly, unable to look me in the eye.

"I'm sorry Catherine" she says softly. Instantly, I feel awful. It's not Sara's fault. I breathe, calming myself down.

"No, I'm sorry Sara. I wasn't shouting at you. It's not your fault we're not getting anywhere." I say to Sara, hoping she understands why I'm so wound up. Her gentle smile tells me she does.

"Actually, we are getting somewhere."

I'd almost forgotten Grissom was there. In his hands he is holding the flight manifests. I hadn't even realised he'd taken them from Sara. He holds up a page, with one name highlighted in bright yellow ink. My eyes widen and my mouth hangs open. There on the page, highlighted, is the name 'Andy Harrow'.

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**Thanks for reading. Please review. Xx**


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